All life comes down to water
by Fault
Summary: A post-series fic about how Vash takes care of Knives. And how sometimes, justice happens. Epic in making. About life, water, healing and hope
1. Thunder and Lightning

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Vash the Stampede, and if anyone's making money outta my story I'm both surprised and annoyed.  
  
Author's notes: I've never done anything much longer than a one shot before. But this one's an epic. I don't know whether I'll ever finish, but hopefully I'll write well enough that someone will want me to. This is a post-series fic, detailing the lives of Vash, Knives, Milly Meryl and one baby boy Vash brings home.  
  
WARNING: There are SPOILERS in this fic. I urge that you finish the series before starting my fic. Though this shouldn't be a surprising request, considering the fic is set post series.  
  
Notes on content: There is nothing explicitly adult planned for this fic. But you know how TV shows warn of 'adult themes'? It's gonna have those. And to quote The Princess Bride movie, it's gonna have: pirates, fighting, true love, sports, swords, treachery, miracles and lottsa other juicy stuff you can sink your mind into. Send me a line if you think the rating should rise. Currently rated: PG.  
  
---  
  
Without further ado I present: All life comes down to water.  
  
Chapter 1: Thunder and Lightning  
  
Our first view of Vash is also our final view of Vash. With his brother slung over his shoulders, he walks off into the sunset, away from the site of their final conflict, back towards 'civilisation', where the humans reside.  
  
Vash has purpose, Knives does not. Being beaten by his brother, his human- loving, scarred up, wrong-headed brother was too much for him. He is beaten, conquered. And although it is Vash's wish that Knivesu change rather than be cowed, it will take much time for him to understand. Especially since Knives has shut down, mind and body, from the beating Vashu gave him. He now lolls bonelessly over Vashu's shoulder, being a very ungainly dead weight, and looking slightly silly. With his blood starting to pool in is head, his face is flushing a pretty pink. His beating was partly given with that dirty human weapon, carved as a symbol neither brother believed in. Not in the same way as it's real owner did. A weapon which now lies discarded by the great tree, along with other symbols, other items that can no longer serve their purpose.  
  
But Vash won, and I guess this is what victory looks like.  
  
The real battle is just on the verge of beginning. It will be a battle of wits against an adversary whose mind had once been a mirror, still is a mirror, identical just opposite, showing distorted images through the cracks. Someone whose thoughts have been baked into place during more than a century on this sun-scorched planet. In more ways than one, Vash has shouldered the burden of taking care of Knivezu. He shifts Knivezu to his other shoulder for a while. He takes a look at his brother as he is lowered and then raised again.  
  
Knivezu, I will always take care of you.  
  
Those are his thoughts, and it is the very chance to do so that brings Vash to weep silently. Knives is alive, and where there's life, there's hope. Vash's tears are a gentle rain, like that which sometimes happens on desert plains. Dry lightning and thunder rumble overhead, dangerous and sharp, sometimes never spilling a drop onto the thirsty ground. When the sound begins to fade, the whole land pauses in wait for the following rain. And finally, finally the needed rain has come, and the desert plains feel the caress of moisture, long awaited.  
  
So, there is Vash, bereft of his geranium-red coat, lacking his gun and the great heavy 'holy symbol of ass-kicking' carried by Nicholas before him. His only burden is Knivesu. His brother. And he's freaking heavy. Vash is gonna need a good long rest, a stiff drink and a back massage by the time he gets where he's going. But his eyes narrow with determination and he continues through the long desert.  
  
And lo it came to be that the brothers were reunited in that desert, in the place of the great conflict, and the world itself did rejoice. And it was in that time that Vashu began the last task given him by Rem, saviour of the first pilgrims.  
  
---  
  
Please review. This is my first time writing in the Trigun universe. In your opinion, how am I doing?  
  
(remember of course that this is the introduction, and much more is to come.) Feel free to e-mail me: my username is fault, at sluggy.net 


	2. Heavy rain

Woah. I got a review on just my intro. :D thankyou. It was inspirational.  
  
AN: My chapters are probably gonna stay short and sweet like this. Except for the occasional biggie. These are all just little scenes that play out, not an uninterrupted story  
  
--- Ch2: Gentle rain.  
  
Vash is travelling the long road back to the only people who he can ask for help with Knives. The only two people who he'll put in such danger, because they so often willingly put themselves in the path of his destruction. Besides, they can always leave him if they don't want to stay any more.  
  
Meryl.  
  
He is going back to her, and to her indomitable sidekick Milly. It is a long journey, back to that dusty little town where Vash left the two insurance girls. Meryl, who he's finally let into his heart, who he finally told about his past. He's. he's not sure why. Was it in case he didn't come back, or to ensure that he did come back? Perhaps both.  
  
Such a long journey. At least, it feels like a long journey, since Knivesu still has not roused, and continues to perfect his sack of potatoes impression. Though most sacks of potatoes don't have dust crusted to the drool drying around their mouths.  
  
It is in this slow plodding journey, lost in thoughts and vagueness brought on by exhaustion and relief, that Vash feels something. Just a soft mental susurration, like a thousand voices sighing very gently, just over the horizon. It draws his head up away from the path he's treading. He narrows his eyes searching the landscape, but it doesn't repeat. Instead a thin keening rises, a voice alone, crying for help. Instinctively he turns towards it, but the motion must have disturbed Knivesu, because he moves weakly, making an unintelligible noise. Vash staggers to a halt.  
  
Yes, that's right, Vash's first responsibility is to his brother. He cannot race across the landscape. No more can he be the dashing hero who saves the day. He sighs, his heart pained, his face a mask, his eyes aflame with pain.  
  
There is no question about it. Knivesu stays with him. He loves his brother; he will not run from his brother. And finally, he will not run from the responsibility he has, to take care of his brother, to stand up for what he believes in, to butt his head against Knivesu's, because to not do so raises his brothers beliefs above everyone else's to lie unchallenged. Knivesu will be taken care of. Nothing and no one will stop Vash in his duty now. For he loves everyone. He loves all life. And he will work towards what he believes in. Alone. He will protect the world from this particular menace only. Though it is easy for Vash to put aside his own grievances against Knivesu for the sake of a promise made long ago, it is hard to make him choose one life over another, one call of distress over another, because of that same promise. But he does. In a way he still wears his coat, though he doffed it in the desert.  
  
The keening call for help goes unanswered, and does not repeat.  
  
Vash's hope had been rising slowly through the trip, as he looked towards the day when Knivesu gave up his hate. But now it evaporates. The greatest menace Gunsmoke has ever seen is his responsibility alone to take care of. Alone. His shoulders sag under their burden, and Knives almost falls to the ground before Vash steadies himself. What he wouldn't give for more harsh words from one particular voice, drawling in Kansai bent that he is being an idiot, and to accept his fate more gracefully.  
  
The rain is falling in earnest now, it seems. It is as though the whole world is filled with it, for one particular gunman.  
  
Vash looks at Knivesu resignedly, a body slung over his shoulder, and slaps his unconscious butt playfully saying. "C'mon Knivesu, we're going home."  
  
Knives does not stir again the whole trip back.  
  
And so it was that the first call of the water bringer was left unanswered. The brothers new bond could not be sundered so quickly for even such a purpose. Once more the water bringer waited, as before, and chose a new time to call forth the first defender of the human spirit to a different duty.  
  
--- TBC. What do you think of this next part? I edited it to add in a few things and change the style almost imperceptibly. 


	3. Planting seeds in unwilling ground

Whee!! More reviews! And I can tell you now that a nice big juicy chapter is planned for chapter 4. Wheet!  
  
Just a note. I honestly thought Knives was just shot in the arms and legs at the end of Trigun. I don't think he died. Though the whole being slung over Vash's shoulder like a sack of potatoes does suggest death.  
  
But I say this: When a tree stands near a fence line two neighbours may share in its fruit equally as it falls on both sides, and a good neighbour will not prune fruit-bearing branches in order to have the fruit all for himself, at the expense of the tree. Nice and metaphorical ne? And goes both ways.  
  
AN: In this chapter I'm trying to write Milly and Meryl's characters. I'm very bad at it. Please flame as much as possible so that my writing may be as the phoenix and rise from the ashes more magnificent than before.  
  
----  
  
Ch3: Planting seeds in unwilling ground.  
  
Vash trudges up to one dusty little house in a dusty little town with his heart heavy and his entire body aching. The confrontation was torturous enough by itself, and it was followed by dragging a catatonic Knives far too many iles across the surface of this sun-scorched land. He barely even paused to catch his breath and rest.  
  
He is tired, dirty and in sore need of a hug, and that body suit is starting to get itchy with sweat and dust. What he'd give for a long bath with no interruptions. Will Meryl and Milly even accept the two brothers back? Yes, they will. Vash knows exactly how far those two will go in the name of duty, or love. But it will not be easy for them to accept it.  
  
He feels very alone.  
  
"Mr Vash!! You're back!" Vash turns from the door to Milly hurrying up the street carrying a large bag full of groceries. She slows down as she gets closer, becoming hesitant. "Is that?."  
  
"Yes, this is my brother. Knivesu."  
  
She just stands there with her arms full, a peculiar expression on her face. This is obviously not the outcome Milly had prepared herself for. Vash shifts his weight and answers her unspoken question about what happened.  
  
"I defeated him, he is no longer a threat to anyone. I'm taking care of him now."  
  
"Right. Then let me help you with him Mr Vash."  
  
"Milly."  
  
"I'm sure you know what you're doing." Milly cuts him off. "We want to make him presentable before Meryl comes home, don't we? And I'm sure no hospital would treat him if they knew who he was." She says, with just a slight hardness in her voice. She puts her groceries on the porch and rolls up her sleeves. Vash is both relieved and in anguish. Milly accepts his decision, but she's obviously in pain because of this.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Without any further ado Milly takes Knives from Vash easily and carries him inside onto the kitchen bench to be cleaned up, just like any farm girl might do when someone's injured. She chatters the entire way there, asking Vash to fetch various things to help clean Knives' wounds.  
  
"And don't forget my pudding out on the veranda!"  
  
Vash feels a great burden lifted from him at that. He can count on Milly to do the right thing, no matter the situation. She will always be Milly. Dutifully he fetches towels, thread, needles, water. Still, there is an extra edge in Milly's voice, a quiver just on the edge of hearing tell Vash that were it not for him, Milly's reaction would be entirely different.  
  
When everything is gathered Vash kicks the last cupboard door closed with his foot and totters into the kitchen balancing an armload of gear. There he sees Milly removing Vash's temporary bandaging to check Knives' wounds and opening his eyes to see the pupils, the usual things. But her hands are trembling.  
  
Vash puts his burdens down on some spare bench space and very gently catches Milly's arm. She pauses for a moment, and Vash gently wraps his arms around her in a hug.  
  
"Thankyou, Milly."  
  
"How can you? How can you still love him after all he's done? Why did you bring him here? Why are you doing this Mr Vash?"  
  
"I promised Rem I'd take care of him." At this, Milly's shoulders lose some of their tension. "Besides, he's my brother. Family is important, right?" Milly stiffens in his arms, then relaxes again as she begins to cry, great sobs pulling the tension from her body.  
  
Knives does not stir the entire time.  
  
.  
  
By the time Meryl arrives home from her second job Knives is safely tucked into the spare bed in Vash's room, white linen covering his naked form, while his clothes await repairs and cleaning. Some of the wounds were untreatable, like the blood-vessel ruptures in his right arm. The angel arm. But he would heal up fine it seems, and his vital signs are strong. Meryl comes through the door, and Vash stands from the couch he's sharing with Milly, taking his glasses from his face.  
  
"Vash." But just as she reaches out to touch him, Milly interrupts their reunion.  
  
"Sempai! Sempai, there is dire news. Knives is alive and resting in bed upstairs."  
  
"Knives? Here?" Meryl takes an involuntary step backwards, away from Vash.  
  
"He's wounded and unconscious. You're not in any danger." Vash puts his sunnies back on his nose. It is as Vash feared. Meryl's sensibilities were making this situation difficult for her. There is a great sadness just beneath the surface of his expression, lurking behind his sunglasses.  
  
"Vash. I'm so glad you're all right."  
  
And finally she does hug him, first hesitantly and then tightly, fear and worry making her want his closeness, despite or even because of the dusty messed-up realness of his bran bodysuit. He sighs and rests his cheek on the top of her head, hugging her back. It seems that he has not lost his two final allies. There is support for him to lean on, despite everything.  
  
"So am I. I wouldn't want to keep you waiting."  
  
At this Meryl's tension breaks, and tears begin to fall down her face. Vash is back and that is what is most important to her.  
  
Milly too feels a great relief seeing two of her greatest friends share support for each other in such a situation. Vashu will have a tough task ahead of him, and they will all face great hardship. Milly is more than sharp enough to realise that.  
  
---- Well.. I kinda fixed the ending.  
  
Just a note, my notes for this fic have just topped 10k words. Woot me! Told you it was an epic in the making. 


	4. Green shoots after rain

Review note: Yay you like it! So happy. Boo no-one has flamed me yet...though the lovely Brit gave me an assurance that Milly and Meryl were done ok. Oh well, I'll figure it out as I go along.  
  
AN: This is the biggest part of the exposition to come along so far. Time to meet my OC. He'll be familiar. for some reason ;-).  
  
Ch4: Green shoots after rain.  
  
That very night after that somewhat tense dinner and a long wished for bath, Vash wakes suddenly from sleep, something calling him from slumber. Immediately he looks over to where Knivesu rests still on a twin bed of his, disturbed dreams twitching his expression. Then the disturbance happens a second time, and Vash knows it well. It's the keening of a dying Plant, the same one he heard out in the desert. His heart feels squeezed with sorrow. The plant is suffering a long death. He cannot put this aside to take care of his brother. It is too painful to turn away. He bows his head, letting his hair flop over his face, shadowed black in the moonlight.  
  
By daybreak he is packed ready to go with his usual stash of gear. The familiar red coat and spiked hair are topped off with a black backpack of travel gear. The red coat is his spare, and it's tails are shot up, the right arm torn to shreds.  
  
He had awoken Milly and Meryl and explained the situation, and both were standing outside the door wrapped in blankets, waiting for him to finish with Knives. Milly had given him her full trust of course, and as usual Meryl had reservations. She didn't want to have them. But she still did.  
  
Vash kneels at his Knivezu's side. "Knivezu. I am being called away. A Plant is dying, and I must go. But if you call for me. I will run to be by your side. Please forgive me for leaving it, even for this short time."  
  
Knives does not stir. Vash stands, and turns away, affixing his sunglasses in the predawn light. Just outside the door Meryl is standing, waiting for him to finish with Knives. "You're really going to leave us alone with him. What if he wakes up? This whole town could be obliterated."  
  
"I don't think he will, and even if he does, he is wounded. He'd barely be able to walk."  
  
"But Vash."  
  
"I will take care of Knivezu, please help me. Goodbye Meryl, I'll be back soon."  
  
With that, Vash leaves the house behind, leaving one grim situation for another. His sunglasses firmly in place, geranium red coat flapping in the wind, Vash once again leaves the insurance girls behind as he strides off into the first rays of sunlight.  
  
.  
  
The very next day Vash stands by the cracked and dusty bulb of a geo-plant, somehow still clinging to life after all this time. It is as he feared, the plant cannot be revived, and he drops to his knees and presses his hands and head against the dirty glass, crying silently. But he cannot give up, he breaths his life into the Plant, prepared to exhaust himself to save it's life, to give it more time, relieve it's pain, anything he can do.  
  
Suddenly as Vash kneels there, hands pressed against the spidery glass he can feel the Plants' sad smile upon him, and it's very energy brushes against his mind. It speaks to him, in the way that only plants do, soft against his mind. "Can I ask for one thing?"  
  
"Anything."  
  
"Tell me about the one who you most wish had never left this world. Someone the world still needs."  
  
"Wolfwood." Vash whispers aloud, his eyes snapping open in shock even as speaks. He surprises himself with his answer. But he knows well that he has put Rem's spirit to rest. It is the young priest who never got his chance at the redemption within his grasp that Vash's mind goes to. But Rem would forgive him for choosing another over her, she rests in peace.  
  
"Wolfwood." The plant repeats, and to his surprise moves closer, inveigling itself deep into Vash's mind. Once there it begins to sift through every memory Vash has of the scruffy looking priest whose tarnished soul shone brightly if you looked from the right angle. It's as though the plant is searching for the very essence of Wolfwood, his very soul. Vash weeps pitifully as each memory, some painful, some happy, is brought to the front of his mind and examined to it's finest detail. Vash has not yet finished grieving for the young priest, and this experience is overwhelming him.  
  
/Wolfwood,/ He thinks. /I loved you like family, you were a true friend. I didn't want to lose you... I couldn't save you. Why did it have to be like this?/  
  
Finally the plant seems to find something it likes. "Ahhh. I knew you would have."  
  
"Would have what?" Vash looks up at the plant with streaming eyes. She is holding something roiling in her hands. Vash doesn't yet understand why the plant wants to know about Wolfwood, and his pain is great, going through every single memory he has of a dead man that he loved.  
  
"Taken a picture of his soul." The plant explains, once again becoming just a soft presence against his mind. "In a hope to understand it, I see. But, Sweet one, you could not hope understand anything about him from it. You could only see it, not enter it."  
  
The plant has all it can know about Wolfwood, it has found Wolfwood's very spirit, as Vash saw once, the impression of a mental tapestry that he had no hope of understanding.  
  
And then the plant. calls. It feels like a blinding light, both overwhelming and attractive, tugging at Vash to enter it. For a brief instant Vash can feel something more, some /thing/ here with the plant and him. Something almost ephemeral, like a breath of smoke. Then it's gone and Vash's attention is captured once more by the plant.  
  
The plant speaks to him then without words, just images and their attached emotions, telling a story. The plant wishes to be reborn, it's life is failing, and it wishes for a child to carry itself on. So it wishes to be reborn into the human world, as someone that the world misses having. Vash has finally allowed Rem to rest in peace, and so, his first thoughts were of Wolfwood. The plant taking every memory it can about him from Vash allows her to become Wolfwood. To make a new life from her spent one.  
  
And then she opens her eyes and speaks once more with her feather soft voice against his mind. "I am dying. Will you have this child with me?"  
  
"Why?" Vash asks, sitting bowed to the ground in exhaustion, asking a hundred questions in one.  
  
The plant answers succinctly and with clarity. "You are taking care of Knives, and now this planet can begin to grow."  
  
Vash pauses in shock. The plant's answer speaks volumes to why this is happening, now, not before, not later, and most definitely not by chance. All the plants of this world had been waiting on Vash to keep his promise, to set aside other concerns, so they could finally achieve the purpose they were built for. And this one broken geo-plant had been biding her time, crippled and alone, waiting for humanity's scourge to be cleansed, so that her one little life could be born in peace. So that the whole of the planet could revive from a dusty slumber. And they never spoke a word. The century long wait was done in silence.  
  
"You waited all this time.."  
  
"Yes, it was worth waiting for."  
  
"I'm so sorry."  
  
"I had the gift of a long life, lived close to this planet. I don't regret it."  
  
Vash feels overwhelmed. "I will have this child with you. My answer. is yes."  
  
The plant glows with joy and reaches through the glass binding it, taking a breath of essence from Vash. It feels like a kiss made of sunlight. He reaches out to embrace it, holding the plant to him with a tenderness and love overwhelming. The plant revives, absorbing essence from Vash, combining it with the memories of Wolfwood, swirling the energies together in a blaze of light, binding them into one single entity, before taking the whole glowing mass of energy deep into itself. And then the plant opens it's eyes, and makes a new life out of three old ones.  
  
With it's final act complete, the plant dies, dissipates, and is reborn, a tiny baby, alone and crying, nestled into Vash's arms, like the plant was only a moment before. A baby like Vash was, only alone, with no twin beside him. But, like Vash, with a protector, to nurture, watch over, guide. Just like that, Vash is a father, a human wish that may never have been fulfilled otherwise.  
  
The baby cries the first cries of a newborn, confused and uncomprehending.  
  
Vash looks at the child in his arms, and gingerly reaches out to touch his cheek. His son. Careful to hold this tiny baby gently, he takes a soft cloth out of his little backpack and swaddles him with reverence. And like countless times in his life before Vash shelters a child. But it's different this time. This time, the child is his own. Precious above anything Vash has ever held before. And more than this, the child is a symbol of renewed life, of the Plants, the planet, and through that, all life, all humans.  
  
Vash smiles, almost unbelieving of what is now wrapped up in his black and white flannelette pyjamas. This is just a tiny baby, but already the hair is a dusting of almost black. and the eyes. Oh the eyes. Newborns have slate blue eyes, unfocusing and wide. This baby does not. Instead a pair of dark grey eyes, crystal bright, look back at him. Wolfwood's eyes. Except for one small thing, they have touch of green in them, they're a touch too pale and blue, and resting on the cheek just by them, is a small blemish, a mole. Marks of his parentage.  
  
The ghost of a memory of the plant drifts by him. "What's his name?" Vash's eyes never leave the mewling bundle in his arms. "Nicky."  
  
And once again, a sigh goes up from the planet: It has begun.  
  
--- AN: and indeed it has. Well. what do you think of my little OC here? 


	5. Nurture and awaken

Disclaimer: Here's my periodic declaration that that I don't own any characters, except perhaps Nicky, though I'm not sure, since he's a reincarnation basically.  
  
--- Ch5: Nurture and Awaken.  
  
After Vash's first overwhelming paternal moment with his new son, the spell of peace is broken, he can't just live in the moment any more, not with an infant to care for. And once he does start thinking of the future, a great darkness looms in it once more.  
  
Knivesu.  
  
How will he be able to care for them both? His heart becomes heavy. The baby starts screaming in his arms and he is distracted away from his troubles. Nicky, like the angel he resembles, quiets quickly under his father's care.  
  
Vash quickly returns to the little house on the edge of the town where Knives and the insurance girls are awaiting him. His journey slowed by the need to be gentle with his tiny child, yet hastened by the need to shelter and feed him properly.  
  
He walks in the door, expecting some kind of reception. But the house is quiet, except for the sound of footsteps on the second floor. Oh well. Vash'll just have to make his triumphant return upstairs. He clatters up them, only to be greeted halfway by a distraught Meryl.  
  
"Vash! Thanks goodness you're back. It's Knives. I think he's having nightmares. He's been calling your name." She doesn't seem to register what's in the bundle in Vash's arms.  
  
"Show me." Vash says shortly, waiting for Meryl to open the door into Knives room.  
  
On the bed inside Knives thrashes weakly, uncoordinated. His forehead is beaded with sweat, and Milly is trying valiantly to hold him down, stop him from hurting himself.  
  
"Mr Vash, he's burning up. Please help him."  
  
The child in Vash's arms awakens, confused. Nicky cries out suddenly, wanting what, Vash doesn't know. And at the sound all eyes in the room go to him, even Knives. Knives eyes have snapped open, unseeing slates of blank blue that swivel towards the source of the sound. He looks wild, inhuman. Vash folds the cloth back so that Nicky and Knives can see one another.  
  
"Knives, this is your nephew Nicky. Nicky, meet Knives."  
  
With that Knives' eyes roll back in his head and he once more slips into unconsciousness, and peace. Nicky cries out again, this time with his full lungs. Vash turns his back on the stunned Milly and Meryl and walks from the room cooing gently and rocking Nicky back and forth. The two girls look at the retreating red coat and the figure on the bed and then follow Vash from the room and close the door behind them.  
  
Meryl is the first to pipe up once they reach the quiet of the hallway. "That child. Is your son?"  
  
"His mother was a plant, she entrusted his life to me. She died during his birth." Vash smiles down at Nicky who is looking back at him in the solemn manner babies sometimes have. Big eyes blink at him, then close as Nicky once again begins to cry.  
  
Meryl looks at Nicky face in awe. "And he's even named well. They look so alike"  
  
"May I hold him?" Trust Milly to put everything aside in the face of cuteness.  
  
"Sure." Vash smiles at Milly and hands Nicky over very gently.  
  
The child instantly calms and smiles up at Milly with the darkest pair of big grey-green eyes. "Oh isn't that wonderful. I've always been popular with my nieces and nephews."  
  
"I think he knows how lucky he is." Vash says quietly looking over Milly's shoulder, one hand brushing Nicky's cheek.  
  
"Vash. I know this is a lot to ask so quickly, but can I be. Can I be his mother?"  
  
"Yes. Of course"  
  
"That's wonderful. Thankyou so much. You know he looks like you too with that little mole." Milly begins to chatter about mundane things like where to get milk and a crib at this time of day and whether she could get babies bottles from Mrs Whats-er-name down the road.  
  
Meryl just stands silently with vague uneasiness over what this baby is, before following the new 'parents' down the stairs. She casts a backwards glance at Knives. He's sleeping peacefully, with almost a smile upon his lips. She stands there thoughtfully for a while before hurrying to catch up and become part of the new little family's conversation once more.  
  
--- And once again I'm struggling with the female characters. *sigh* Ah well. At least I finally had some inspiration and continued.  
  
Oh, and I slightly edited the previous chapters. 


	6. Ch6: Moving along

Disclaimer: I'm not making any money out of this story, and I do now own any of the Trigun characters. I give the owners of Trigun permission to use any of the ideas within this story.  
  
I am having trouble with this story. A LOT of trouble. But rather than hurt myself trying to bash out a narrative, I'm going to half-do the in between bits, and just put up a bunch of the stuff that I'm happy with. I don't think I'll ever finish this story to my own satisfaction. But that doesn't matter. I'll put up something that's not too hard on the eyes.  
  
Ch 6: Moving along ---  
  
Vash is with Meryl and Milly. He has begun the redemption of his brother, though it is a long long road. Meryl and him are still.. dancing around one another somewhat, not getting too close too quick.  
  
But now Vash has a child, and things are changing.  
  
For Milly and Meryl it's an opportunity to see another side of Vash. This is the Vash who will drop anything for the sake of a child. This is the Vash who will fall asleep with Nicky in his arms, just so that he knows he is safe. This is the Vash who has dropped the coat, the gun, and the hair, to give one child a chance to live in peace and safety.  
  
But there is a sense of pride about his interactions with Milly and Meryl, as though challenging them to not accept him. But this is Vash, purveyor of miracles and misdirection, and the two insurance girls aren't about to leave, or lose respect. Besides, nothing much shocks Milly.  
  
It takes a long time for Meryl to do so, but eventually, she realises that the gentle man she sees before her is, in his own way, much more noble, strong and impressive than the red coated and dashing gunman he had been before.  
  
And it is not like Vash has for a second paused in his efforts to improve the human lot. It's just that now, he is much more gentle about it. Mrs Whatsername with the baby bottles is given a taste of the warmth of new life again. Her own children grown and gone, she had become bitter and closed-hearted. Nicky is her chance to recapture some of the love and openness she had nearly forgotten, and Vash has the pleasure of witnessing her daughter's return, child in arms and alone, to be accepted back wholeheartedly, because her heart was open. Because her grandson looked a little like Nicky. Because Mrs Whatsername had put aside bitterness and decided to live life once more.  
  
Nicky grows quickly, much as Knives and Vash himself did. And slowly Vash realises just how much of Wolfwood was put into the child. Down to memories, speech, mannerisms, this child takes after Nicolas Wolfwood. But also, he takes some of the best qualities of Vash as well. A more than human heart. The superhuman reflexes and the desire to be treated human despite them. The only real physical marks of Vash's that he inherited was the mole on the cheek, pale baby-blonde hair that replaced his dark birth- hair and eyes that carry green in their dark depths.  
  
... On to more more more story! 


	7. Ch7: good morning

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Trigun concepts written about in this story.  
  
Ch 7. Good morning.  
  
There were many days lived in peace in that household. Nicky was an absolute dream, despite the feedings in the middle of the night, the dirty nappies and usual burping up onto clothes, he was a happy and healthy child. Besides, Vash took care of most the midnight feedings. There were few times when Milly beat him to being at Nicky's side.  
  
Still, there was a strange tenseness despite everything. A sense of waiting. Knives is still comatose, and as the days pass, it is harder to keep him clean and comfortable. His flesh is healed, but he remains trapped in nightmares and the depths of catatonia, unaware of the outside world.  
  
But it doesn't stay that way.  
  
Knives awakens. It is a rather uneventful thing. Vash just walks in one morning to find him lying with his eyes open. Knives' gaze leaves the ceiling immediately as he walks in, tracking his brother's movements.  
  
"Knives."  
  
Knives takes a deep breath and then begins to speak  
  
"Dancing in the dell one day, my precious thoughts were whisked away, down into the darkened well, neither seen nor sought they merely fell."  
  
".."  
  
"Yes. Your verbal agility is a relinquished ability in the face of my twisted mental motility *bibble bibble*"  
  
"Uh.."  
  
"I'm sane. Help me to the bathroom."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Vash waits quietly outside the bathroom as Knives slowly tends to his ablutions. Then Vash enter the bathroom too, and bathes his brother. Knives is still too weak and un-coordinated to do it himself. Nerve damage is like that. The whole time, there is silence in the room, except for the small noises of water moving, and the faint noises filtering in off the street. Vash performs the small intimacies of washing Knives's hair and back in the curtained dimness of the bathroom. Eventually Knives is dried off, and Vash helps his brother into a bathrobe.  
  
It is amazing how calm Knives is through all of this. Maybe Vash broke his emotions out there in the desert. The answer seems less obscure though, When Milly wanders into the room carrying Nicky. Immediately Knives blinks and turns to face the door where Milly stand with the baby, his face showing only surprise. Milly freezes in a gesture of protection, unsure what to do about Knives.  
  
"That child. I know that child."  
  
"You saw him the night you first came here." Vash says, restraining Knives from going to the child and scaring Milly more.  
  
"No, I know him. He is.." Knives breaks off, clutching at his head. Vash pushes him gently onto the bed.  
  
"Mr. Knives?" Milly's voice quavers, seeing Knives's contorted expression.  
  
"It's coming back." He gasps and lies back on the bed. Vash dips a waiting cloth in water and presses it gently to Knives forehead. Knives calms slightly and sighs.  
  
"Rest more. I'll bring you food in a minute."  
  
Vash exits the room, taking Milly with him. As soon as the door closes behind them, Milly bursts into apology.  
  
"Mr Vash I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to show you, Nicky was smiling."  
  
"It's ok Milly. I think it's good for Knives to see Nicky."  
  
"Vashu-san, Knives was unusually calm, it's as though something is magically keeping him from going berserk."  
  
Luckily for Vash, Milly's insightful musings were interrupted by Nicky's burbling and cooing.  
  
"Oooh, it must be time for Nicky's food too, lets go to the kitchen together Mr. Vash.  
  
.o0o.  
  
Later that night, Meryl sits across from Vash at the dinner table.  
  
"Vash, I have been thinking. The way you were, born, it must have been for a reason. Is Nicky like that too?"  
  
"I don't know. But it feels like he is."  
  
Vash smiles gently down at Nicky, unable to be serious when looking at such a cutie. Nicky is busy trying to look at the end of his own nose.  
  
Slightly unfinished, but better than nothing, isn't it? 


	8. As a child of 6

Diclaimer: I don't own Trigun.  
  
AN: I'm jumping ahead a little in order to get SOMETHING up on the net.  
  
Ch 8 :As a child of six  
  
Once again Vash's little group was moving to another town. Life was like that in the presence of the humanoid typhoon. For one reason or another, it became best to move on. And there were multitude reasons, if Vash's reputation or bounty didn't do it, Knives' actions in public caused discomfort, and if neither of them messed things up, the rate at which Nicky grew would start gossip after more than a few months in any town.  
  
Milly and Meryl had taken Knives with them to see about tickets for the sand steamer.  
  
It was when Vash was sitting there with Nicky in the suns' light, guarding luggage that a little scene of unforseen importance unfolded. Nicky sat happily on Vash's knee, swinging his legs idly, the sun shining off his light brown hair.  
  
"Why do you have so many scars, Daddy?" Pipes up that adorable child's voice, sweet and high.  
  
"Because I vowed never to kill. It's the price I paid for it."  
  
"But why don't you heal them?"  
  
"I can't."  
  
"Of course you can heal your scars Daddy. They just need to be forgiven and accepted. You have never really scarred on your face have you? Didn't you wonder why?"  
  
"I assumed it was because it was never deeply wounded."  
  
"No, it's not." Nicky counters, with the absolute certainty of youth. "It's because people look at it every day and accept it as human."  
  
"You don't scar so bad when someone who loves you, and you love, binds the wound, do you?"  
  
Vash becomes hesitant. The boy is beginning to feel like a solar panel, absorbing sunlight to make it into energy. ".No."  
  
"We can't heal alone Daddy. But we can together. I'll show you." Nicky takes Vash's right hand in both of his little ones, carefully grasps it and holds it up in the sunlight. Studying it carefully, he traces and memorises every contour, every flaw and scar. Big and small, the scars are multitude, and Nicky shows complete acceptance of them.  
  
"This one."  
  
Nicky points to an angry red scar running up the side of the pinky. "This one can be healed, because I hold it every day. The love should flow right through." He says, using his own personal logic flawlessly. He hugs the hand to his chest awkwardly, then lifts it up to kiss it with the casual tenderness of a child. Then he strokes his hand over it gently, as though to calm it. And it does calm. Slowly over the next few minutes, the angry redness fades, and the skin relaxes, the scar loses it's appearance of being freshly healed. For Vash it feels almost as though he's caught in the static cloud from a windstorm. There's something powerful behind what Nicky's doing. When he finishes, the scar is still there, but now it doesn't hurt. Nicky grins triumphantly and holds the finger up for Vash's inspection.  
  
"Amazing."  
  
"Not really. You've had that scar fifteen years, it's about time it showed it's age."  
  
Nicky responded in casual sardonic Osakan, momentarily the very picture of Wolfwood despite the child's voice and pudgy cheeks. A stark reminder to Vash that his child is not ordinary in any way. Then he cocks his head at Vash, once again just a kid with odd memories, and says in a mixture of adult and child viewpoints. "You know daddy, I'm glad I'm still a child, I'm gonna get a lot less inclined to kiss you when we stand the same height again." "Woe is me, how am I ever gonna heal the scars on my butt?" "Kiss them yourself, tongari." At this they both laughed, as the suns slipped a little lower onto the horizon, and a handful of tickets were bought for a very strange family.  
  
TBC, as usual. 


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I think you get the point that I don't own Trigun.

Ch 9: Strange memories can hurt

Nicky passes the age of seven with few hiccups, at least physically. There is just one thing. This is the age when Nicholas Wolfwood first killed a man. For this new child, who is the product of a loving family, this memory is disturbing. It's very hard to mesh the hard unforgiving memories of hatred, loneliness and determined violence with his current situation. And suddenly Nicky has memories of shooting a man. But he knows, he just knows that it wasn't merely a nightmare. What should he do? Nicky gets up and washes his face and gets dressed like usual.

But when he gets to the kitchen where Milly is preparing breakfast it all falls down. She's smiling and humming as she cracks eggs. When she looks up and notices him, tears are streaming from his eyes, and he runs over to hug her leg, still not quite tall enough to properly reach her waist.

"What's wrong little Nicky? Bad dream?" He sniffles. "No, bad memories."

She crouches down to get a better look at him, rubbing his back gently. "Memories? That's a very unusual. Not a bad dream?"

"... maybe" Nicky suddenly knows that telling Milly would be worse than not telling her. This isn't the same as other people's dreams. This is one of those things that have to wait. He is very resentful of this other self he has, that tells him things that he shouldn't know, and it's not fair, because he's just a kid. But this other self that thinks of Milly in a very different way doesn't leave. He sniffles and changes the subject.

"Auntie Milly."

"Yes Nicky?"

"Can I call you just Milly?"

Milly searches Nicky's face in surprise, wondering where that came from. "You don't want me to be your Auntie Milly anymore?"

"It's not that." Nicky draws in a breath, holds it and then blows it out tensely. Milly reaches out and rubs his shoulder. Nicky looks at her seriously. "Can you promise to always hug me, no matter .. no matter what?"

Milly pushes Nicky's hair back from his face scans Nicky's anxious expression with concern. "Of course. You know that."  
"What's happened to make you ask this, sweetie?"

But Nicky just shakes his head, so Milly holds Nicky in a close embrace until he's quiet and calm, comforting this child who is so wistful and quiet sometimes. She kisses his forehead and he smiles at her.  
"That's my little angel. You know I love you to pieces right?"

Nicky's 'yeah' is muffled against her.

"You ok to run along until breakfast's ready? She smiles as he runs off out of the kitchen.

Vash listens to the scene in silence from the verandah, where he's been sitting the whole time. He sits, leaning on the wall and thinking. When Nicky comes trotting out he looks over at him. Nicky hesitates momentarily before coming to sit beside Vash.

Something about his posture let's Vash know that Nicky's memories of Wolfwood are still strong in him.  
"You're that old already huh?"  
Nicky nods. Neither needs to say what memory brought this on.

"I'm surprised."

"Why am I so surprising? You know that I share three lifetimes." And he adds quietly, almost to himself "..including the sorrows of three lifetimes."

"I had hoped it wouldn't be this way. I'm surprised that you don't blame me for any of this."

Nicky glances up at him. "I do, but I don't want to waste any time being angry at my family. So I try to let it go."  
"Thanks. It means a lot to me."

"Yeah."

"Are there going to be any more like this?"

"I don't know. Wolfwood didn't have much of childhood."

"I think that's the worst for some time to come though."

TBC. 


End file.
